


Monachopsis

by buttheyrebrothers



Series: 12 days of Wincestmas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pining Sam, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/pseuds/buttheyrebrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monachopsis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innerglow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerglow/gifts).



There are days he feels like a story no one wants to hear, without a beginning or end. He is surrounded by hundreds of people, students like himself, TAs, professors. They’re all bustling around, minding their own busy lives or chatting with friends and colleagues. Everywhere he goes there are noises, chatter and laughter and it makes the silence in his head more oppressive with each passing day.

It’s not like he doesn’t talk to people, he does. His peers seem to like him, value his calm presence and witty humor. His professors admired his sharp mind and constructive remarks during classes. But all of that is just an outer layer to Sam; it feels like they only see those parts of him he wants them to see. He is all these things, sure, but it’s not all that is of him. He can’t really pinpoint what makes him feel so out of place here. But the feeling is pulling him down, deeper and deeper, until he feels like he’s drowning, like he can’t breathe.

It’s not his past as a hunter, not the knowledge of what bumps in the night. Not really. Sure, he could kill someone in under a minute with his bare hands and without breaking a sweat but he accepted that part of himself a long time ago. It’s not even the loss of his mum and the constant moving they’ve done, with nothing to call his own except a broken family, weapons and consistent yearning for something he can’t even name. Ever since he met Caroline on the bus ride to California and heard her story he realized that other people have their own sad stories, their own crosses to bear. He’s not alone in being different, but he feels lonely all the same.

Maybe it is the feeling of stasis after years of constant movement. It’s supposed to feel like having found something permanent, like having arrived somewhere worthwhile. Instead, he never felt so lost before.

In the dark hours of early mornings, when his mind denies his body much needed sleep, Sam is sure the real reason he feels so out of place is the longing in his heart. Like it knows, deep down, that he is not where he is supposed to be, that his place is with another lost boy in a black car.

He doesn’t belong here.

Morning often brings him a new perspective though. Stanford is a place for people who aspire to become better, to contribute to this world with their unique skills and minds. Sam is at Stanford, at college, because he _needs_ to be here. He would never have a chance at happiness if he doesn’t find his own way. This place, it’s not for him, he will always look at it from the outside. But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be here. It’s a way point, a station on his way to whatever fate has in store for him.

If he can just hold on, he hopes, his destination will have freckles. That in the end he can go home.


End file.
